ALWAYS
by MaliciousFrost
Summary: Sasuke finds a vessel for his heir, but as time passes, it becomes more difficult to distinguish her from lover and tool. PAIRINGS ARE TENTATIVE RIGHT NOW. RATING MAY CHANGE TO MATURE LATER ON, SO BE WARNED.
1. Revelation

Always

Chapter 1: Revelation

The dank network of corridors under the Uchiha estate were unforgivingly stark. Sunlight was an impermissible component, and sound, equally so.

Tonight, however, brisk, impatient footsteps beat a cacophonous tattoo against the stone path. Someone was hurrying, their stealth forsaken as whoever it was tended to urgent business. There was hardly ever urgent business in the nest. Urgency was reserved for the tumultuous world outside, and none of it was allowed inside their sanctuary.

Zetsu slapped open his door as the footsteps approached his room, and stepped outside. He had been roused from slumber, and was still blinking the sleep from his eyes when he roared, "_Oi!_ Could you please shut the hell up! I'm trying to—!" His eyes widened fearfully when he saw who he was yelling at. Seconds after he had swallowed the rest of his profanities, an arm struck out, smashed into his chest, and hurled him back into his room, where his flying body and flailing arms crushed his bed into splinters.

The footsteps continued without a hiccup in its steady, frantic rhythm.

Kabuto knew who the person was as the footsteps rounded a corner and continued down towards his laboratory. He tsk-ed, annoyed, but fearful. Who was the rat that told Sasuke about his new experiment subject? Swiftly, Kabuto threw the peeled back sheet over her head and busied himself with something else. Just as his hand reached down for a jar of preserved liver, the door slammed open. He felt a prickling chill crawl slowly down his spine.

Two sharingan eyes burned through the darkness, picking Kabuto apart. He offered a friendly smile that came across as more patronizing than affable. "Can I help you—?"

"Where is she?"

Kabuto had had years of experience analyzing Sasuke's behavior, and now even more time since he had joined Taka. Now that the Uchiha was twenty years old, he thought he knew all his behaviors and tendencies. The low voice Sasuke used indicated anger, and perhaps, Kabuto thought, mildly surprised, an underlying anxiety that he had never seen manifested in him before. "Karin?" he inquired innocently, because she was the kunoichi whom Sasuke usually asked for. "I have no idea."

"Playing coy doesn't suit you, Kabuto."

Kabuto desperately wanted to keep the woman Sasuke was talking about for an experiment, but he knew he was throwing himself into a losing battle. Once those sharingan eyes had latched onto him, he had lost whatever resolve he possessed. "Then I don't know who you're talking about."

When Sasuke took a calculating, ominous step towards him, Kabuto involuntarily took one back. Lowering his gaze, Kabuto looked anywhere but into the sharingans. It was not wise to taunt Sasuke. His voice was growing lower, more ominous, and soon, Sasuke would resort to some kind of violent coercion as he usually did. Inwardly, Kabuto sighed. Orochimaru had bred a mini version of himself.

But Sasuke played his game with forced patience. "I'm talking about the Uchiha woman, whom you captured at the outskirts of Konoha half a day ago," he said, disturbingly calm. "The woman who has the sharingan, and who you undoubtedly wanted to keep as an experiment."

Kabuto bumped his glasses up his nose. The game was over. What could he do anyway? Fight Sasuke? 'Haha…. Good one,' he intoned humorlessly to himself when the fleeting notion crossed his mind. He could imagine himself in pieces before Sasuke's feet if the Uchiha caught so much as a faint glow surrounding his hand. "Oh…. That one."

His nonchalance slipped. "Yes, that one," Sasuke snapped viciously.

Kabuto was taken aback. He had never seen Sasuke so anxious and quick to anger outside of combat. Sulkily, Kabuto lifted the sheet he had thrown over the woman's head, slowly, reluctantly, and with unnecessary care. When Sasuke saw her closed eyes and her slow, deep breathing, he gave the medic nin a questioning look. "She's just sedated. I didn't put her under any jutsu," Kabuto explained.

"Is she wounded?"

"No."

Sasuke lifted the woman from the operating table and draped her over his shoulder. He made his way to the door, but before he walked out, Sasuke turned his head halfway towards Kabuto.

Kabuto could see Sasuke's strong profile, the knife-edged nose, the artfully sculpted jaw and chin, and, most prominently, a sharingan glaring at him under a slanted eyebrow. "If you lie to me again, Kabuto, I will split you open from navel to nose." The door slammed shut.

Taka's top medic nin or not, Kabuto could not help but feel a crippling fear when he heard the promise in Sasuke's voice. Sometimes he wished he hadn't eradicated Orochimaru from his body. Without his old master by his side in one form or another, he felt defenseless. Another shiver took hold of Kabuto. Undoubtedly, if he lied to the Uchiha again, he would be feeding the crows with his own intestines.

... ... ...

... ... ...

Three years of peace was not nearly enough to heal Konoha from the ravages of Pain's destructive rampage. Much of the village had been rebuilt, but some parts of it were left untouched since the incident, standing as the remains of the fateful day. The entire Uchiha property was such a place. Planks of dry, crumbling wood were layered into hills of rubble, and studded with boulders of upturned foundation.

The destruction of his home didn't stop Sasuke from sneaking back into Konoha with Taka and the remnants of the Akatsuki. He had recruited a few other formidable shinobi, who he personally tested before he allowed them membership into his organization. Sasuke, who had devoted himself to one goal at a time before, now had several — to resurrect his clan and to bring Konohagakure down to its knees once more so he could become the Hokage. Soon after, Fire country would crumble to pieces under the power of his organization, and, eventually, the other countries. He had another project under his personal surveillance — Itachi's revival. He was going to accomplish it no matter how many Konoha shinobi he had to sacrifice. Konoha owed those lives to him.

One hundred meters below the Uchiha estate, the secret underground meeting place of the Uchiha clan was spared from Pain's Banshou Tennin. It was now referred to as the Taka Nest, housing more than fifteen of the most powerful, brutal shinobi the world has seen since Pain. Their presence was negated by an impenetrable ninjutsu barrier Karin had set up herself. Sasuke trusted her with the barrier. As a shinobi specialized in sensing chakra, she knew what she was doing. Sasuke did not worry any further when Karin promised that "not even I could find the Nest if I didn't already know where it was."

After Sasuke had seen to some business outside, he returned underground and immediately went back to Kabuto's lab, where he was sure to find him.

"Is there any progress?" Sasuke asked by way of greeting. "You look terrible," he added unsympathetically.

His glasses flashed as Kabuto pushed it up his nose. He knew he looked exhausted, but he felt about three times worse. "No. I can't just revive him like Kimimaro."

Sasuke had heard this excuse before, and he was tired of hearing it, but he was no medic nin, so even though annoyance prickled his mood, he had no right to be impatient with Kabuto.

"Kimimaro died from a disease. Compared to Itachi's condition, Kimimaro's was easy to deal with. Itachi, on the other hand…" Kabuto turned to the clear, liquid filled capsule, where Itachi's body floated amid wires ensnaring him like vines "… Had a more complicated death. We could always force his dead soul out of the corpse and give him another soul, but that would mean only the revival of his body, not his spirit or mind—"

"No," Sasuke objected immediately without even letting Kabuto finish. "That's the last thing I want."

Sasuke's gaze was relentless. Kabuto could feel sweat beading on his forehead. "There's an answer," he blurted out nervously, although he was honest when he said it. "It's just a harder one… and a harder procedure."

Sasuke gave a single, curt nod, even though he wanted to smash the line of glass beakers next to him.

Deciding quickly to change the subject, Kabuto asked, "By the way, how is the Uchiha woman? Is she awake yet?"

"Yes. She is very… uncooperative."

Kabuto skated a cloth across a bloodied scalpel, wiping it clean. "What's her name?"

"Takeda Akira."

"What a masculine name for a girl who looks like that."

"Indeed," Sasuke agreed.

Kabuto stopped, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. He set the scalpel down. "What did you say her last name was?"

"Takeda. Strange, I know, but expected, because her father was not an Uchiha."

"Her mother then—?"

"Yes, her mother was Uchiha Fumiko, a second cousin of mine."

"She told you about her family? I thought you said she was uncooperative."

Smiling a little, Sasuke shrugged. "I didn't need her to tell me. The resemblance is unmistakeable, if not uncanny. I guess the _Konoha no hana_ lives on in Akira."

"The Flower of Konoha…?" Kabuto echoed.

Again, Sasuke shrugged. "Fumiko was famous for her beauty, as was her little sister, although she was less well known, since her exposure to the rest of Konoha was minimal. Fumiko's little sister…." He paused for a moment. "… was Nii-san's girlfriend."

"Itachi killed everyone but you. How could both of them be alive?"

"That's what I thought too. But Fumiko had strong ties in Mizugakure. Her husband was a Mizu shinobi. Unlike the rest of the Uchiha clan, Fumiko traveled out of the village a lot. In any case, Fumiko was insightful enough not to go back to Konoha."

"I find it odd that Itachi would overlook Fumiko, then, if it's common knowledge that she traveled a lot."

"Yes, me too."

"So when we found Akira on the outskirts of Mizugakure…."

"That's where she was actually living."

There was nothing left to say. Sasuke took one more look at Itachi and left with a final message for the medic nin. "For your own sake, Kabuto, don't disappoint me."

... ... ...

... ... ...

When Akira cracked her eyes open again, she found the same person who had greeted her earlier sitting at a desk near the futon, writing a letter. There was absolute silence except the scratching of the quill. The sedation still lingered in her system. She remembered vaguely waking up once before and then falling asleep again, and she remembered the man, who had insisted she tell him a little something about her. Proudly, Akira remembered refusing to talk.

The man turned to look at her, setting the quill back into the inkwell.

She looked up at him with defiant eyes. "I'm thirsty," she said in a cold, expectant tone that demanded him to get water for her.

"The kitchen is down the hall to your right."

"Get it for me."

Sasuke regarded her silently, and Akira, unaware that her imprudence was directed at one of the most vengeful, powerful shinobi, stared back disdainfully. "Hmph," he scoffed as a smile fret around the corners of his lips, "You'll die of thirst before I agree to get it for you."

"You don't treat your prisoners very well, do you?"

"If I did not think to treat you well, you would be sleeping in the dungeons with a few angry, S class, rogue shinobis. Would you prefer to go there instead?"

"Do they deliver water there?" Akira shot back.

'Definitely an Uchiha,' Sasuke thought, amused as he read the contempt in her gaze. Ignoring her for the time being, Sasuke returned his attention to the letter.

A few minutes passed. Akira rubbed her chapped lips together and felt her throat sticking to itself as it cried out for some moisture. Her dry tongue licked at her drier lips, and then licked again. Akira tried to glare Sasuke into obedience, although it was in vain, because he staunchly kept his gaze focused on the letter. Finally, she sighed. "Down the hall to my right?"

Sasuke's eyes didn't stray from the letter. "Down the hall to your right."

Throwing the blankets off with unnecessary viciousness, Akira stomped down the hall, her annoyance manifesting into a thunderstorm of footsteps.

In his room, previously resting before Akira's nonverbal tantrum woke him, Zetsu scowled and wrenched open the door. He looked to make sure it wasn't Sasuke before roaring, "Could you please shut the _hell_ up?"

"We're trying to sleep!" his other half protested.

Akira whirled around, and saw the former Akatsuki bearing down at her. She looked him up and down. Her nose wrinkled with disgust. "Gross. What the hell _are_ you? Are you supposed to be a plant?"

Zetsu stared at her in disbelief, her brazenness taking him by surprise, before he realized that this woman wasn't supposed to be here. "Who the hell are you?" His fingers wrapped around her throat. As if on cue, Sasuke appear out of nowhere, quill in one hand.

"Her name is Uchiha Akira. She will be staying with us from now on. No one will lay a finger on her."

"My name's _Takeda_ Akira. Ta-ke-da," she had enunciated to him earlier when he kept talking to her about some Uchiha clan. But from her brief chat with Sasuke the first time she awoke, she knew that no matter what she said to him, he will always refer to her as "Uchiha." Who is this Uchiha person anyway? That wasn't her name.

With the soreness in his chest to remind him of what Sasuke could do, Zetsu's fingers slipped from her throat as he lumbered back into his room, grumbling unhappily.

"Down the hall to your right," Sasuke reminded her. "Are you sure you'll be able to handle the last hundred meters?"

Akira caught the sarcasm in his tone. She rubbed her throat, even though it didn't hurt. Sasuke had come before Zetsu could get a good hold. "I think I'll manage," she answered, hurling his sarcasm back.

The kitchen was as barren as the rooms and halls of the nest. Though it was "barren" to Akira, it was "organized" to Sasuke, who liked it this way. Back home, Akira's kitchen was colorful, with food overflowing the countertops. She had inherited her mother's love for the culinary arts, and it showed through the stuffed cabinets and numerous, worn aprons hanging from a coat hanger in the corner of the kitchen. Here, the pots and pans were neatly tucked away, the food all stored in the refrigerator and three other cabinets overhead.

Where were the glasses? Akira opened one cabinet, followed by another and another to no avail. She couldn't find them. Her eyes raised to the second row of cabinets overhead, and then flickered to the sink. Maybe she should just drink with her hands.

Grabbing a stool that squatted by the refrigerator, Akira moved it to the cabinets and stepped onto it, tip-toeing to reach the handle on the doors. When she got it open, she was disappointed to see only stacked bowls and plates.

She moved to close the door. But wait! Her eyes caught a gleam of glass. It was a cup. Akira nearly cried with relief. She quickly brushed the stacked china aside when one of the stool legs snapped.

A falling sensation washed over her. Desperately, Akira grasped at the shelf, and then watched, in horror, as two stacks of plates and bowls slid forward when the shelf gave way under her fingers. With her balance lost, Akira synchronized a fall with the dinnerware towards the linoleum ground. Her eyes shut, and she braced herself for a big bruise and the cacophony of shattering china.

The fall stopped. The shattering was a mere clatter.

There was a dizzying rush from the surge of adrenaline. Akira didn't realize she was leaning against someone's chest until a quiet voice asked, "Are you alright?"

Her eyes were still wide, her face blanch. "Huh?" she breathed shakily.

"I asked you if you were alright." No sign of annoyance broke through the muted voice, but no sign of concern, either.

She was frozen, her back still leaned against the person's chest. Her eyes looked to the side as one arm set the still stacked plates onto the counter, followed by the other arm with the bowls.

"Yeah. I'm alright."

"You're shaking."

"I—" she looked for the right words to describe her state of mind. "I'm just… — I was just scared. The plates —"

There was silence for a moment. The forthcoming crash that didn't happen still rang in Akira's mind.

"Are you ready to get off me now?" Whoever it was, his tone was too polite to be sarcastic.

"Sorry! Sorry…." She was still jumpy. Akira leaned away from the man and turned around to face whoever had stopped the disaster.

"Who are you?" he immediately asked when he saw her. "Are you supposed to be here?"

"N-No…. I mean… this S-Sasuke guy brought me here."

"You're still shaking."

"I was spooked, alright?" she snapped. "I was nearly buried under a stack of china. Who are you, anyway? What's your name?"

"My name is Kimimaro." His pause invited Akira to make a similar introduction.

"I'm Ta-ke-da Akira," Akira said, enunciating her family name. She was going to beat that name into everyone's head — even that Sasuke guy.

Kimimaro's eyebrows lifted slightly. "'Ta-ke-da Akira? Is your family name meant to be said brokenly?"

Glaring, Akira pushed herself away from him. "No, but you better remember it. It's not Uchiha, alright?"

"Why would I call you Uchiha?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask that Sasuke guy?"

Kimimaro was silent for a moment, and then he understood. So that's what was going on. The resurrection of the clan. He almost felt sorry for her ignorance. He picked up the broken stool and handed her the glass when she asked for it. As he was about to leave, Akira said, "Wait."

He turned back to her. "Um…." Her hands fretted over the glass, turning it over and over in her fingers. "Thanks." She beamed a smile at him, a smile that typically made men woozy.

Akira thought he had just ignored it when he turned away again. She didn't see the very slight, and very rare upward twitch at the corners of his lips.

… … …

… … …

… … …

Author's Note: Hi, everyone! MaliciousFrost here. I hope you enjoyed the first installment of Always. I had been writing for the Naruto community as pbjsandwich for quite some time, though I've been on hiatus for a while now (a year, I think?). It wasn't until recent that I caught up with the Naruto manga plot line, so if there are a few mistakes, a few holes here and there in my plot, you can tell me, and I'll change it.

Anyway, I'm very excited about this fic, because I'm trying to go for a darker tone. Although… it doesn't seem like it in the first chapter, huh? — sweatdrops — But hey, I said I was going to _try _=]

As mentioned in the summary, the pairing will be KimimaroXocXSasuke. Er… no slash, sorry XD

I hope you'll return for the next chapter. Feedback is appreciated and loved.


	2. Over Tea and Cookies

Always

Chapter 2: Over Tea and Cookies

Although there was an enormous chance that her escape plan would fail, Akira was grasping at any opportunity she could. Sasuke was going to be out tonight, so here was her first chance.

This place was freaking her out. The _people_ here were freaking her out. In the past day, she had encountered a walking venus fly trap, a shark man, who leered at her with unmistakeable lust, and another guy named Kimimaro, who looked like he had on colorful eyeliner. Although, a rather cute guy with colorful eyeliner. But a cute guy wasn't a good enough reason to stay, so in the dead of night, she crept out of Sasuke's room, closed the door silently behind her, even though he wasn't there, and slunk through the halls and corridors, pasting herself close to the walls. She pulled her coat tightly around her, glad she had remembered to put it on even though it was warm outside.

An hour later, Akira realized she was lost. The halls all looked the same. She found herself thinking, each time she rounded a corner, 'Wait… I think I've been here before….'

By the second hour, Akira half wished someone would find her. Her feet hurt and her legs ached, and she was thirsty. Akira wanted to peel away her coat, but it provided a comforting weight on her shoulders.

Footsteps approached.

"Hello?" she called out tentatively, scared and relieved at the same time. The torch light cast a back light onto the figure, so she couldn't see the person's face. "Who's there?"

"How bravely you forge through the nest."

She recognized that quiet voice.

"Kimimaro-san?"

"I hope you know there are still some Takas who don't know who you are, and would kill you at first glance."

"Then I'm lucky you found me."

"You don't even have a kunai knife on you."

"Is that concern I hear?" Akira teased. His impassive face was now in the light. Akira withered slightly under his indifferent gaze. Not the joking type, apparently.

"It is not my job to protect you. I believe you can't come out of Sasuke-sama's room unless he allows you. The next time, I will inform him of your disregard for his rules." He beckoned her towards him. "Come. I will lead you back to his room."

"I'm not going back," Akira said bluntly. Her eyes were the same onyx black as Sasuke's, but twice as defiant.

"That is not for you to decide." Kimimaro felt his pity for her grow. Her fervent rejection of Sasuke-sama's room…. Had it started already?

"I'm not going back," she whispered.

He regarded her with the same look. There was nothing he could do for Akira without betraying Sasuke. If she weren't an Uchiha, if this were any other time, Kimimaro would probably have guided her out of the hideout. She had kind, honest eyes, and a brilliant smile. But she was valuable to Sasuke.

They were the last remaining Uchihas now.

"I can't help you. I have orders to follow."

"You can pretend we never crossed paths," Akira suggested hopefully. "Then it wouldn't be your fault."

"… That would be dishonest."

Her eyebrows dipped and drew together, and her hands fisted. "Then I'll fight you. And if I beat you, you can tell Sasuke you couldn't stop me."

The same twitch lifted the corners of Kimimaro's lips again. "Alright," he decided.

"Excuse me?"

"If you beat me, I'll lead you outside. If I beat you… you will peacefully walk back into Sasuke-sama's room."

"Fine," Akira agreed.

"Fine."

There was a face-off moment, where they each evaluated the strength of their opponent. Akira desperately wanted to bite her nails, but she felt like if she make one wasteful move, no matter how minor, she would find herself back on Sasuke's bed, waking up from an unconscious stupor. Kimimaro looked at her expectantly, relaxed, ready.

"Well, come on, then," Akira said, her voice as shaky as her body.

Her position was completely wrong, Kimimaro instantly noted. Badly arranged feet and worse held fists. "'Kunoichi…' isn't your main profession, is it?" he finally asked after several more minutes of silence.

"No," she admitted. Her fists were still up. "But I can still —"

With untrained eyes, Akira thought Kimimaro had somehow, in a moment that contradicted the space-time continuum, teleported. One moment he was before her, and the next, he was behind, a hand clasped to her shoulder. "You lost," he declared. "Now, go back."

"Like hell I did. You didn't do anything to me yet —" The words caught in her throat when she heard a slight, crackling sound before she felt something sharp poke her side. Slowly, slowly, Akira looked down and followed the graceful, arching curve of the bone with her eyes until it led her to Kimimaro's side. It was jutting out from his side. It had clear, slimy looking liquid coating.

A scream swelled into a lump in her throat. She swallowed it, and then fainted.

… … …

… … …

… … …

When Akira woke up, she couldn't tell if it was already morning, but immediately, she shut her eyes again and turned to face the wall when footsteps approached the room. If she feigned sleep, maybe that Sasuke guy would stop asking her questions, and maybe she wouldn't have to hear him talk about the Uchiha clan. For a cool, collected guy like him, he sure was annoying. No matter how many times Akira insisted she wasn't an Uchiha, that she had no business with that clan, he wouldn't listen.

Sasuke opened the door, and the first thing he looked for was her still form on the bed. She wasn't asleep. He could tell that much by her quickening heart beat, and her held breath. "Quit the act. I know you're not sleeping."

Scowling at the wall, Akira started to breathe again. Fine. So he was a good enough shinobi to notice. Good for him. She didn't roll around. Her back remained presented to him.

The footsteps came into the room, followed by the door shutting quietly. "I take it your escape attempt was unsuccessful."

Akira tried to mute her astonishment, but she couldn't help thinking, 'How did he know? Did Kimimaro rat on me?'

"How did I know?"

She caught a tinge of amusement in his voice, which she found infuriatingly annoying.

"You're wearing your coat, and it's eight-four degrees in here. I can't imagine any other reason why you would have it on."

Finally, Akira turned around and sat up. "You're very annoying," she snapped. "I'm trying to sleep."

"You were trying to fake sleep," Sasuke corrected. He sat onto the couch at the opposite side of the room. His position was lax, an arm draped across the top of the couch with his katana leaning against it. An ankle rested against his knee. But his gaze was intense, the red of his sharingan cutting through the darkness, which was only slightly alleviated by the candle on the desk.

"What do you want from me?" For an insane moment, Akira thought Sasuke wanted a chef for his platoon of shinobis. Cooking was all she had a talent for, after all. She was a genin, and tried to pass the chunin exams four times to no avail. Surely he didn't see her as a source of manpower, did he?

Sasuke had hoped this moment would come later. He wanted to put off seeing her reaction as long as possible, but since she was asking….

"I need you to be the mother of my heir."

The dreaded silence lingered in the air, filling every corner of the room. He thought the silence couldn't be anymore awkward, anymore stifling. Forget simply being able to see the incredulity in her eyes, he could feel it radiating from every pore in her body.

"… Sorry?"

"I need you to provide me an heir."

She rose to her feet. "You're _insane_!"

"It would appear that way…," Sasuke admitted slowly, "Since you won't acknowledge that you're an Uchiha. But that comes as no surprise, since you lived in Mizugakure with your father all your life. He probably didn't tell you anything about your Uchiha heritage." He rose to his feet as well, leaving his katana on the couch as he approached her. "You're _mother_ was from the Uchiha clan. Uchiha Fumiko, my second cousin."

"You can just pick another woman," Akira said shortly. "I won't do it."

Sasuke walked towards her, but stopped when Akira began to take steps away from him. His raised a finger to point at his eyes. "Do you see these? They are called sharingan eyes. It is a kekkei genkai, inheritable only through genes. I'm sure you had it activated already, so I'm sure you know you have it too. Believe me when I say I would rather choose the woman I bed. Unfortunately, the sharingan is maternally inherited. Uchiha women are the sole carriers of the gene, so that means, even if I do have the sharingan, I cannot produce children who have the kekkei genkai; I know, because I've tried."

"I refuse."

His gaze was cold. Akira could feel the atmosphere grow ominous. "I'm not giving you a choice. If you had a choice, you wouldn't be stuck here."

"I don't _care_ about the Uchiha clan. I'm not part of it!"

"But as long as I care, you will be kept here until you comply."

Eyes downcast, Akira stared at Sasuke's feet. She couldn't stand looking into those eyes. They were pitiless, domineering, and unforgiving.

Sasuke took her silence as a promising sign. He held up a finger. "I just need you to provide one, healthy child. And then you'll be free to go."

She shook her head, but this time hesitantly. In the back of her mind, Akira knew she had no choice. Either she gave Sasuke what she wanted, or she would be kept prisoner until she learned obedience. Besides a few friends, Akira valued her freedom the most. Virginity was definitely a small price to pay.

"Do we have an agreement?"

"No, definitely not. I'll never do it." If she were a talented shinobi like her father, if she had enough stealth to break out of here, undetected, that's what she would have said. Her only talent lied in cooking, but her prowess in the culinary arts was absolutely useless in this situation. "I'll make you some kick-ass takoyaki if you let me go," she imagined herself saying. A giggle bubbled at the base of her throat and threatened to come out. Akira quickly squashed it. Did he even like takoyaki? She remained silent.

"I'm asking you politely," Sasuke said, his patience wearing thin. "I don't have to be so kind."

Sure, she could run her kitchen knife through a carrot in a second and have perfect, wafer-thin slices, but it was a different story when it came to wielding a kunai knife. Every time a kunai knife or a shuriken left her hand, she would have to pray that it found its mark, unlike the other shinobi, who hit their targets with pinpoint precision every time.

"Alright…," she said quietly. Her agreement made her sorrowful, and her compliance, nauseous.

Mechanically, without any trace of emotions in his eyes, Sasuke removed his cloak, followed by his shirt before he tossed his belt onto the couch.

"Now?" she said incredulously.

He indicated to the bed. "Lie down," he said tonelessly.

Akira sat instead, seeking chances to disobey at every turn. It was petty, but oddly satisfying, although the degree of hinderance she imposed was like a rigged up sheet of rice paper against a charging rhino.

'What is it like to him anyway?'Akira thought as he lifted her legs up and swung them onto the bed. 'Did he find any intimacy? Was it just like another mission? An obligation to his clan?' Her eyes met his briefly. She averted her gaze.

"Lie back."

When she mulishly remained sitting up, Sasuke gently, but firmly, pushed her shoulder back until she was forced to lie down.

"Can you deactivate your sharingan?" she asked when he began removing her clothes.

His fingers, worrying over the tie on her dress, stopped. Curiosity lit his eyes for a brief second before he wordlessly did as asked.

Stubbornly, Akira clenched her legs together when he reached her undergarments.

His eyebrows lifted slightly. "I thought we had an agreement."

Through gritted teeth, Akira reluctantly admitted, "We do…." Her legs relaxed.

Crouching over her, Sasuke bent his head towards hers, his lips brushing her ear as he murmured, "Are you a virgin?"

No matter how much she hated him right now, no matter how hard she tried to imagine him as a deformed monster to maintain her abhorrence, Akira couldn't stop the pleasant tingle shooting through her body when she felt his breath against her ear. The gentleness in his voice belied his cold eyes. Somehow, Akira thought Sasuke would be a tender, kind lover to the woman he actually loved. If there was such a woman.

"Why the hell would that matter?" she asked bitterly as she saw her underwear dropped beside the bed.

His lips were so close to her ear that when he talked, it felt like a kiss. "I'd like to know how gentle I have to be with you."

Akira placed her hand against her cheek and turned his head to face hers. She met his eyes with a serious, almost stern gaze. "I am. I don't care how many other women you sleep with, but with me, you'll always have to be gentle. Got that?"

A slow smile spread on Sasuke's face, followed by a small, amused, "Heh…." Lowering his head again, Sasuke brushed his lips against hers. Akira turned away, the movement of her head an involuntary jerk. "Agreed."

… … …

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… … …

They laid in bed, panting, their hair in disarray, splayed across the pillows. Sasuke had rolled off a few seconds ago, and now he laid on his front, his flushed cheek rested against the warm pillow, an arm thrown across Akira's chest.

She couldn't say it didn't feel good. Sasuke certainly knew his way around a woman's body. Pushing his arm off, Akira sat up, sweeping the hair back from her face.

"You act like you didn't enjoy it," he said, almost smugly.

"I didn't."

"Your moaning dictated otherwise."

"Shut up!" she snapped. Akira moved a few inches away from him and flopped back down. She was tired. The pleasure was beginning to fade, leaving the encroaching fatigue.

There was silence for a while. Akira's breathing was still heavy, but Sasuke's had settled back into it's normal rhythm. She sat up again. For a while, Akira stared at the single, still flame hovering above the candlestick. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and her arms were clasped around them.

"Make me some tea," Sasuke said softly.

Akira got up, not because she wanted to make him tea, but because she wanted to get away from him.

As she dressed herself, Sasuke's eyes lingered on her body, his appraising gaze tracing the graceful curves of her hips, the sensual dips of her waist, and the taut muscles that ran down the length of her slender legs.

"Oolong tea," Sasuke specified softly, when really, he wanted green tea. Those were the only two types they had in stock, and he knew she was going to try to spite him by making the exact opposite of what he wanted.

Akira made her way to the kitchen, flattening and combing her hair with her fingers as she went. Thankfully, there was no one in the kitchen. It was late at night, anyway. It would have been strange if there was someone in the kitchen, unless Taka had midnight snackers.

Standing in front of the stove, Akira watched the steam rising from the kettle with vacant, distant eyes. When she heard the water boiling, she snapped herself form her reverie and began to search for tea leaves. In the cabinets, Akira found green tea and oolong. With a slight, but vindictive smile, Akira scooped in two spoonfuls of green tea leaves after she had removed the kettle from the stove.

She was about to go back to Sasuke's room when she decided that she needed to sit down first. So Akira took a cup for herself. Once the tea had steeped, Akira filled the cup to the brim and took a sip. For the next minute, her hand remained laced around the cup. The steam did nothing for her eyes. Tears, which had been waiting to fall since she had walked out of the room, finally spilled onto her hands. Her body trembled. No matter how gentle Sasuke had been with her, there was still an uncomfortable, bruised feeling between her legs. She let out a sob, a violent, choking sigh that harbored all her anguish and frustration. If only she were stronger… she wouldn't be in this situation. If only she had had the strength to fight her way out of the clutches of the Takas who attacked her when she was about to travel back to Mizugakure. If only… —

"Hullo…," a voice behind her said.

Hastily, Akira wiped her tears away and turned around. "Oh…. Hi, Kimimaro-san…." She turned away quickly before he could see the wetness in her eyes. "What are you doing here?" she mumbled.

Kimimaro pretended he didn't see her tears. "I like a midnight snack now and then," he said quietly. "I don't usually encounter people in the kitchen at night. What are you doing here?"

"Making tea," she answered, turning away slightly as Kimimaro brought a jar of cookies to the table and sat down in front of her.

He sighed a little as he watched her trying to turn away without being obvious about it, watched as she fought tears. "You can cry if you want. I won't judge. I won't ask. It's not my business."

Akira sniffed a little, but she staunchly fought the tears as she turned back to him. Her eyes rested on the cookie jar, and she couldn't help but notice the seals layering the cover of the jar. She laughed through her tears. "What the hell?" she exclaimed, pointing at the seals. "The Takas are a little paranoid, huh? I don't think any thieves would come into this hideout to steal cookies."

Kimimaro released the seals with a softly spoken, "_Kai_." They fell apart, floating to the table. He opened the jar. "This is a precaution against Hidan. He likes to steal my cookies. I keep telling him to stop. He feigns innocence, but I know it's him."

"So… the seal works?"

"Yes, it responds only to my chakra. Although, I think I may have to change containers soon. Dimwitted as he is, Hidan would think to break the jar instead of trying to outmaneuver the seals."

"You're crazy," Akira declared, chuckling.

He smiled a little. "They're good cookies."

He thought she still looked pretty when she was crying, but he preferred it when she smiled. And plus, it made him feel good when he made her laugh.

"Would you like some tea with your cookies?"

"Yes, please. Would you like some cookies with your tea?"

"Don't mind if I do."

"So what are you doing here anyway?" Akira asked after Kimimaro offered her the jar. "You seem too nice to be working for Sasuke."

"I'm in debt to Sasuke-sama. Even though Kabuto revived me, it was Sasuke-sama who thought to bring me back."

She took a big bite of the cookie. It _was_ good. "Why did he revive you, anyway?"

"As a favor to Juugo, but more like he wanted another asset to his team."

Akira looked at him over the rim of her cup as she drank. She set the cup down. Clay and wood made a light _thunk_ against each other. "You're a talented shinobi, then?"

"I guess?" he said, though it sounded more like a question than a confirmation. "I don't know what your definition of talented is."

"Your ability with your bones… really freaked me out," Akira said.

"I'm not surprised."

"I don't mean that as an insult."

"I know."

Silence hovered over them for a moment, but it wasn't an uncomfortable or unsettling quiet. It felt more like they were taking the time to enjoy each other's company.

Reluctantly, Akira said, "I should get back. He's waiting for his tea."

Kimimaro nodded once.

"Thank you for the tea."

"Thank you for the cookies."

Akira beamed another smile at him, to which Kimimaro reciprocated with a light smile of his own.

She left.

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A/N: Hehe… second chapter :D

Seriously, what do you guys think? I'm getting so few responses it makes me think I should discontinue the story.


	3. That's the Way the Cookie Crumbles

**Jack and Jill**: Keke… yeah I get what you mean. I've changed some of the dialog that I thought were a bit stagnant, so hopefully the ones I ended up publishing are improvements.

**AtomicPlant**: You give such good encouragements XD Thanks. It really boosted my spirits. I will try to finish the story then. It's hard to stop when I know there is at least someone who's looking forward to my chapters. I love your screen name btw =) Is it like… "factory" plant? Or like… the organic plant? XD Ha… Either way, it's cute.

**BBang**: Keke… your "lousy" review did change my mind. I had a lot of fun writing about Kimimaro and his cookie jar, so I'm glad that it was something memorable.

**katarauchiha653719**: Aw… thanks :D Here's your update!

**JigokuShoujosRevenge**: Yeah, I've noticed…. Why the hell is that? =[ Kimi's still one of my fav characters, tho XD

**.**: You bring up a really good point, and yeah, I think he would, but I'll explain Kimi's reasons more in future chapters.

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Always

Chapter 3: That's the Way the Cookie Crumbles

When Kimimaro had to go later tonight, Akira had nowhere else to go but back to Sasuke's room. She loitered as she went, her feet making slow, rasping drags against the brick floor. A disgruntled frown creased her face, but she couldn't be too unhappy about Kimimaro leaving, because he had just spent the afternoon with her.

"Sasuke should do his own dirty work," she said loudly. Her voice bounced off the walls and echoed down the hallways. Akira froze, listening for approaching footsteps, eyes darting to search for people around her, but it felt like the entire nest was empty.

Soon, no matter how much she tried to delay the inevitable, she was standing in front of Sasuke's room. She stood there, arguing with herself whether he was in there or not. She didn't want to see him. Wisps of hair shot up from her forehead and settled back down when Akira tried to blow them out of her eyes. She sighed, leaning against the wall across the door. Maybe she'll just sleep out here.

It had been three days since _that _night.

It wasn't as though Sasuke made moves on her since then. He understood that Akira didn't like him, that she hated him after what he had done. The past nights, Sasuke had slept on the couch, which Akira knew was comfortable enough. Still the gesture was nice. She would think him to be a perfect gentleman if he hadn't raped her.

It made her think what she meant to him. Did he feel a connection because she was an Uchiha? Or was she a commodity he would later discard after he had gotten what he wanted out of her? Did his thoughts matter to her? And yet… Akira felt the beginnings of sorrow manifesting in her thoughts. What would happen to the baby? Would she even get to visit her child?

"Hey…." The voice that called out to her was ominously low.

Akira looked up to see a woman with magenta hair emerging from Sasuke's bathroom.

"Are you supposed to be here?"

"I'm um…," Akira began hesitantly before trailing off. What was she exactly? "The Uchiha heir's human incubator," she wanted to say. Although she managed to quash a tiny giggle, Akira couldn't help smiling at her private joke.

The woman bristled, her eyeglasses gleaming malevolently in the torch light. "Something funny? What are you doing near Sasuke's room?" she demanded.

'_Whoa_, this woman is crazy,' Akira thought when she heard how she had pronounced Sasuke name, like she was savoring it, like it had a delectable flavor.

The woman took a slow, intimidating step forward. "Are you one of Hidan's whores? Trying to make a move on Sasuke?"

"Wh-what? N-No." Akira couldn't still her voice. This woman's presence was so menacing. "I… I'm—"

Karin leapt forward and fisted her hand into her dress, wrenching her forward so Akira couldn't escape the backhand that came arcing towards her face.

The slap was a loud _crack!_ in the still air. Too stunned to speak, too scared to move, Akira watched as, this time, a fist came flying towards her. 'This woman is crazy!' she thought for the second time, her inner voice a squeak of horror and indignation. The second blow to her face was tremendous. Akira reeled, her head spinning uncontrollably. She could taste blood on her lips. Her knees buckled and gave way, and she fell when Karin dropped her.

Rolling onto her back, Akira recoiled as Karin straddled her and yanked on her hair to expose her throat. "I'm gonna tear out your long, shiny hair, and cut away that pretty face of yours," she whispered.

Akira's eyes widened when Karin drew out a kunai knife. Desperately, Akira tried to find her voice so she could scream for help. The edge of the kunai knife pressed under her jaw. Akira's heart nearly stopped. She was convinced Karin would make good of her promise and peel away her face. For the third time, her mind screeched, 'This woman is _crazy_! What the hell is her _problem_?' Her hands scrabbled uselessly against the arms imprisoning her.

Suddenly, as if someone had pulled the plug on her, Karin's arms dropped to her side and she paused a moment before she scrambled to her feet.

"Sasuke, this woman was outside your room—!"

Akira first heard footsteps before she saw Sasuke's feet. She didn't look up at him. Her head spun from Karin's fist and the nauseating taste of copper in her mouth.

Karin faltered when she saw the murderous look in Sasuke's eyes. "S-She was…," she tried to explain, and then swallowed her words when sharingans flickered from Akira to Karin. She froze.

"Did you do this to her?"

Who knew such softly spoken words could sound so malicious?

Sasuke waited for Karin to answer, listening as she stumbled on her words. He cut her off by looking away, extending a hand to Akira, who looked at it blankly. "Can you stand?"

"Yeah…," she said, pushing her up herself.

"S-Sasuke…," Karin began as he followed Akira back into his room.

His gaze was piercing, and it held the promise of pain. "I will deal with you later." Sasuke shut the door behind him and retrieved some bandages, cloth, and antiseptic from his desk drawers.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Akira was sitting on the couch, sloppily wiping the blood away from her chin. She didn't answer him.

Sasuke sat next to her, dumping the first aid onto the cushion between them. "I asked if you were alright. Were there any blows to your stomach?"

Of course… that's what it was about. Everything was about the well-being of his heir. Akira was stupid to think otherwise. "Yes, your heir's _container_ is okay," Akira snapped scathingly at him.

For a moment, there was genuine confusion in Sasuke's eyes before it melted away into understanding. "What else did you think I was concerned about? You?" he asked tonelessly.

Frustration and anger set her cheeks aflame. Even though she hated him, even though he didn't even try to hide the fact that he was using her, Akira wanted him to feel _something_ towards her. She wanted to think that the passion he had showed when he slept with her was genuine. Akira didn't want him to love her, or even like her. That was the last thing on her mind, especially since she could never reciprocate those emotions.

But she wanted him to feel _something_ towards her. She didn't want to be a moving, breathing tool. More than anything right now, she wanted Sasuke to acknowledge that she could think, that she had emotions, that she was human… that she was worthy enough to be subject under his hate or love, his benevolence or ruthlessness.

His indifference was infuriating.

It proved that he viewed her exactly as he had treated her — a device.

Sasuke approached the blood on her chin with a wet cloth.

When Akira turned away and scooted away from him, Sasuke sat even closer, trying again. "Don't be stubborn," he said brusquely when she tried to push his hand away.

"I can do it myself," she insisted.

Inwardly, Sasuke rolled his eyes. Women sure were complicated. 'Fine…," he thought, 'It's obvious what she wants to hear.'

"I _want_ to do it."

"Can you say that with a more deadpanned face? My god…," Akira groused, snatching at the cloth Sasuke held out.

Holding it out of her reach, Sasuke leaned close, his hand pressing against the back of her head so he could force her face towards him.

She leaned back as he leaned forward, way, way back until Sasuke fell on top of her. "I can do it, I said!" she snapped, wrenching her head to one side while pushing him away.

"And I said I want to do it for you," Sasuke snapped back, trying to wipe her face.

"I don't _want_ you to!"

"But I _want_ to."

"Why does it matter if you want to? It's my face!"

They looked at each other for a second, their noses a centimeter apart, before they both realized how ridiculous they were being. Akira's laugh was a tiny hiccup of amusement. Sasuke allowed himself a fleeting smile.

"I know you want Kimimaro to do it, but he's not here right now," Sasuke murmured as he cautiously held the cloth to the cut on her lip.

Akira watched him, studying his onyx eyes as they wandered to the blossoming bruise on her jaw, and then back to the split on her bottom lip. The entire time, Sasuke's hand dabbed gently at the cut. His eyes flickered upward briefly once to meet hers before they returned to the cut on her lip. She didn't look away. She could feel the callouses on his fingers and palm as he gently tipped her head to one side to get the blood better. They were hands that had obviously gone through a lot of training, suffered many hardships, and killed many enemies. Akira resisted the urge to shudder. But for someone referred to as the strongest, more formidable shinobi, he was amazingly gentle and sensitive to her pain threshold.

"This is going to hurt a little," he warned her, moving further into her lips, where the split was the deepest.

Her eyes watered.

"I know. Just bear with it…." When the blood was dabbed away, Sasuke saw that it wasn't too deep after all.

"Let me sit up," Akira said, pushing him back a little.

Sasuke realized he was still lying on top of her, which was probably way past her comfort zone. "Sorry." He palmed his hand against the couch and pushed away.

"What did I do anyway? Who was that woman?" Akira asked, hissing a little as Sasuke moved to the cut under her jaw, where the kunai knife had rested.

"Probably nothing. Karin is a little… crazy."

"No shit."

An eyebrow on Sasuke's head rose. "Have you been hanging out with Hidan?"

"With _who_?"

"Never mind. No one."

"The good-looking guy with silver hair?"

Despite himself, Sasuke could feel the beginnings of what he realized, in amazement, was jealousy. He was used to women drooling after him, that's all. For Akira, it seemed like she thought positively of everyone else in Taka except for him. Coercing her into giving him an heir wasn't even the issue here, because Sasuke noticed her dislike the moment Akira set eyes on him.

"Hidan's crazy, too," Sasuke blurted out, and immediately felt petty trying to sabotage Akira's potential friendship with the Jashinist, even though he believed what he said was true. The rare times Sasuke had to visit Hidan's room, he would find at least one dead, naked woman, sliced up with multiple stab wounds, and slumped against the wall outside his door. The hallway outside his room was a bloodied mess, red drenching the floor, the walls, and even speckling the ceiling.

"Really?"

"He's a Jashinist."

"What's that?"

"… Never mind," Sasuke muttered, feeling more and more like a jealous schoolboy.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Akira insisted when Sasuke was about to apply ointment onto the cut.

"Kabuto made this ointment. It'll heal the cuts soon, considering how shallow they are."

"Kabuto? The cute nerd with glasses?"

Sasuke gritted his teeth. In his opinion, Kabuto was far from "cute."

"Cute?" he voiced aloud. "Do you think ill of no one?"

"Well, I think you're hideous," Akira said flatly, "…If that counts for anything."

"It doesn't," Sasuke snapped before he could reign in his uncharacteristic outburst. "And I think you're hideous too… if that counts for anything," he retorted viciously. Inwardly, Sasuke was confused. What the hell was wrong with him? What happened to his composure? His grace? His reserve? Why was he being so petty?

Akira sneered. "A lot of _normal_ men feel otherwise. Besides, what does my appearance matter? It doesn't change the fact that you're ugly."

"Many _prettier_ girls feel otherwise."

'Stop! Stop! Stop!' Sasuke's mind shouted desperately. 'What's wrong with you? Stop acting like a child! Her replies aren't worthy enough to be acknowledged. Stop feeding her ammunition.' It was ridiculous, but he couldn't stop. Sasuke waited expectantly for a reply, having already prepared a retort.

"_Hn_."

"That's my line," Sasuke said sourly.

"Whatever. Thanks for treating my wounds," she spat, standing abruptly, and then collapsing back onto the couch after suffering a head rush. "Ow…," she groaned, clutching her head.

"Hmph," Sasuke said smugly as he moved to put the first aid back. "Where are you planning to go anyway? You can't leave the nest when it's dark."

"To find some company, because yours sucks," she snarled, attempting to stand again. Akira did it carefully this time, rising slowly.

"No one's going to want to talk to someone who looks like you," Sasuke jibed, even as his mind howled, 'Stooooopppp! Stop this foolish insult match!'

"_You_ would know. Ugly loner." And then she slammed the door shut behind her as she walked out.

Sasuke stared dumbly at the closed door for a few seconds. Then he smiled when he felt a thrill he couldn't find in fighting.

Outside, Akira couldn't help the grin that crept to her lips as she leaned against the door to try to calm her escalating heart rate. "I hate him," she said softly with a small smile.

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… … …

Akira found no one in the kitchen. She felt disappointment settle, but after her stomach growled a few times, she decided to cook herself something. Soon, amidst pots, pans, ladles, spices, and ingredients, Akira forgot about her solitude. She hummed a tune, reducing a lump of beef into thin slices in seconds. Smoke rose from the oiled pan, hissing and crackling as Akira tossed in the sliced up meat.

Her attention turned to the handmade gyoza bathing in boiling water. They were already rising to the top. She quickly scooped them onto a plate and tended to the meat again. After she showered some of her special seasoning onto the meat in the pan, Akira flipped it with a deft flick of her wrist.

A head appeared next to hers. Akira heard sniffing. She yelped, nearly flipping the meat out of the pan as she jumped.

"That smells really good, seriously."

Akira's heart settled back into its normal pace after it had skipped. "Um… thanks." She smiled nervously at the man standing close behind her. "Would you like some?" she asked, trying to be friendly in case the person was a homicidal maniac like most of the Takas she'd met so far. "I made more than I could eat." Hidan was enthusiastic. "Fuck yeah. I haven't had good food in ages."

"Hidan, right?" she asked as he sat at the table.

He pushed his foot against the table and leaned his weight on the back legs of the chair. "Yup. You're Uchiha Akira, huh?"

"Ta-ke-da Akira," she enunciated crossly as she mixed the meat into the noodles before drizzling her special sauce over it.

Hidan smirked. "That's a shitty cover-up."

Akira ignored him. She set the dishes onto the table and handed Hidan a plate and chopsticks before she sat down. "So I heard you were a Jashinist," she began.

Perking up, Hidan replied through a mouthful of food, "You know about Jashin?"

"Sasuke told me you were. I have no idea what a Jashinist is."

Hidan proceeded, in the most passionate, animated fashion, to explain what being a Jashinist was. By the time he was done, Akira had decided that the Jashin religion wasn't exactly dinner conversation.

"I see…," she said, turning a little green after his unsavory details of a human sacrifice. "That's interesting."

Hidan smiled at her, failing to catch the slight look of uncertainty on her face. "That's what I'm fucking talking about. You're one of the few who listened to me talk about Jashin. Those other cock sucking heathens'll go to hell. Seriously." He stuffed two more gyozas into his mouth. "This is some good shit. I'd give my left nut to eat like this every day. So tell me something about your —" He stopped, the chopstick halfway to his gyoza stuffed mouth. "What the fuck happened to your jaw?"

He had been so caught up with the explanation of Jashin and so busy stuffing his face he hadn't noticed until now.

Akira's hand rose involuntarily to touch her bruised jaw. The cut on her lip had already healed, but was still slightly red. The thin scratch under her jaw was already gone. That ointment was good, but it couldn't heal bruises.

"Um… a little run in with Karin, who thought I was trying to steal Sasuke away from her," she muttered, slurping up some noodles.

Hidan scoffed. "That bitch's crazy, seriously."

Akira laughed a little. "I can't agree more."

A crooked smile tilted Hidan's lips. "I like you. You're a good cook, and you're pretty. If you weren't Sasuke's woman, I'd bang your fucking brains out and—"

"Sacrifice me?" Akira finished for him.

Grinning, Hidan said, " Damn straight. You're a girl after my own heart."

Akira supposed she should be flattered.

After he had finished inhaling the noodles in his bowl, Hidan leaned back on his chair and sighed, patting the slight bump on his stomach. "Goddamn…," he began, but couldn't finish, because he didn't know what to say.

But the best compliment was his satisfied sigh. Akira beamed. "I'm sorry I didn't have time to make dessert."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Naw, no need. I have something."

Her eyebrows crept up her forehead. "You do?"

Hidan got up and went to the cabinets overhead, searching.

Akira's eyes widened when Hidan came back with Kimimaro's jar of cookies. She watched as he examined the seals on the jar with a befuddled expression. For a few seconds, he picked at the red slips of paper with blunt, blood-crusted nails. Then realization dawned. "That little fucker…." Hidan muttered.

A few "_kai!_"s and some manual prying later, he began to realize that Kimimaro had set up a very effective seal.

"Are you sure those cookies are yours?" Akira asked as his fingers scrabbled uselessly against the lid.

"'Course they're mine," he murmured distractedly, turning the jar around and around to search for a weak spot. After a few more minutes of fruitless examinations, Hidan growled, "Fuck it," and slammed the jar onto the table. It shattered, and out rolled Kimimaro's precious cookies.

Hidan grinned widely at her. "Come on! Dig in!" he said, already stuffing his mouth with chocolate chip goodness.

Laughing, Akira got out some milk from the refrigerator and sat back down, taking a few cookies for herself.

Hidan the Jashinist scared her a little, but he was vulgar, foul-mouthed, and twisted in a strangely endearing way. Akira whiled away part of the night with him. A little after eleven, however, Hidan left, saying he had a ritual to complete before twelve.

"Really?" Akira asked. Hidan had delved into some concepts of the Jashin religion and the overall procedure of the sacrifices, but he had never mentioned rituals. "You never told me about a ritual. Can I watch? What do you do in the ritual? Can I take part in it?" Akira couldn't help feeling excited. He sure was devout.

"I guess you can take part…. Why not…?" he said dubiously, more to himself than to her. "First, I draw a diagram with my blood and lie over it. Then I stab myself in the chest."

"Oh."

There was silence.

"I can let you stab me if you want."

Her wide-eyed silence continued.

"And you can help me get some towels to wipe away the blood afterward."

… And continued.

Hidan waited for her to get up and follow him. She had wanted to take part in the ritual, right? "Well?" he said expectantly. "Comin' or not?"

"Ah… no thanks. I think I'll skip out on this one," Akira told him with a weak smile, and remained fixed on her seat. Hidan would have to drag her screaming and thrashing out of the kitchen to get her to watch his ritual. Otherwise, she was staying put in the kitchen until she couldn't hear his footsteps walking away anymore.

"It's not fun," Hidan frowned, "But I gotta do it. Anyway, there are plenty of rituals, so you'll have chances in the future. See ya later. Thanks for the food. It was um…." He tried to look for the right words to describe the miracle that had happened on his taste buds.

Akira smiled. "Good shit?" she guessed.

Hidan grinned. "Yeah. Good shit."

She waved him goodbye as he left.

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A/N: Karin sure is scary o____O I thought I would like her in the manga until she proved to be an insane, Sasuke obsessive psychopath XD

I really liked this chapter. The Hidan portion was really fun to write kekeke…


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